


Jack and the Yeti

by TheUnvanquishedZims



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnvanquishedZims/pseuds/TheUnvanquishedZims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack tries to get into North's workshop and instead strikes up an unlikely friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack and the Yeti

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KS_Claw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KS_Claw/gifts).



> Written for KSClaw's birthday, originally a kinkmeme fill.
> 
> Original prompt: _What if, as a young spirit, Jack tries to break into North's workshop. But instead of being kicked out by the Yetis, he is instead adopted by one of them?_

It wasn’t that Jack was _trying_ to get on the naughty list. He just happened to be in the area, and there wasn’t a child on Earth, living or…whatever Jack was, that could resist the siren song of Santa’s toyshop. Realizing the yetis could see him was a shock, knowing that they were intelligent enough to recognize and communicate with him even more so.

He definitely didn’t cry when one gave him an ugly, hand-painted sword with a crack down the side and a bow on the handle. He was just testing a new kind of ice and it happened to get on his face, that was all. When he was done testing the yeti was still there, awkwardly holding his shoulder and making distressed noises.

Jack slowly uncurled from around the toy, discretely scrubbing at his face with a sleeve, feeling ice crunch and flake off. The yeti let out a high whine and reached for the sword. Jack jerked back in shock, clutching it close to his chest. No, they couldn’t take it back, it was his Christmas present, it was the first Christmas present he’d gotten in years, in _over a hundred years no one had given him a present, not parents or friends or even Santa Claus–_

He was face-deep in yeti chest fur when he finally stopped bawling enough to feel embarrassed over his outburst. It was just hard sometimes, okay? Not that big a deal, really, but the baggage apparently piled up until it found a suitable listener. He was done now, no more crying. Sorry for the trouble, he’d just take his present and go back to wandering the world–oooor maybe the yeti would pick him up bring him to a hut full of warmth and nice smells. It was a little strange how Christmas had a smell of its own. Jack wondered if it wore off, or if you got used to it when you lived in it year-round. The yeti gave him a mug of cocoa with some indeterminable spices in it, a snowflake made of cream gracing the liquid’s dark surface.

Jack definitely didn’t cry over that, instead freezing the cream flake in its shape and delicately lifting it out of the mug to place on the yeti’s nose. Served him right for letting his guard down around a spirit of mischief. The yeti licked the snowflake off with crossed eyes and a serious expression, making Jack laugh and restoring at least a little of the good humor in the room. The yeti shyly showed Jack his other swords, pointing out all the little flaws and quirks that made them unfit for gifting purposes.

“Still practicing, huh?” Jack laughed, letting his magic loose as he twisted thin air into a gleaming ice sword, pattern of diamonds swirling down the blade. The yeti took it reverently, putting it on the table and pulling out a fresh block of wood. Jack slowly nursed his cocoa while the yeti’s delicate little tools filled the hut with scrapes and clangs. It was strange to be in a place _with_ someone, not just spying on them. He shifted and sighed a little just for the pleasure of seeing the yeti react. Even just a glance in his direction, acknowledgement that he existed, was…nice. It was really nice. He could get used to this.

Eventually the sounds of sanding and painting fell silent, the yeti sitting back with wide eyes, gesturing Jack over to the other side of the table. Jack leaned over the yeti’s shoulder to see the final product. It was a beautiful saber, styled after Santa’s own blades, perfectly copied from Jack’s melting model. There were twisting patterns on the handle and the wood of the blade was painted a shining silver, bright enough for even the most feeble imagination to be able to pretend it was real.

“Wow,” Jack breathed, face lighting up as he exchanged delighted grins with the yeti. “I’m Jack,” he blurted, offering a hand. His grin only grew as a paw solidly gripped him, shaking it with a rumbling noise. “Phil? Nice to meet you. I get the feeling this is going to be the start of a beautiful partnership.” They both smiled and turned back to admire the sword, Jack’s mind already racing to think up new toys for the yeti to make.


End file.
